The thing I have always wanted to do seems so far from my capability now and even farther from ever becoming a reality. I wrote a thing, a little thing, an introduction to a book that will never be written. I wrote it in five minutes (give or take) for the purpose of having a snippet to display my talent to potential employers—publishers that need people to churn out 20,000 words to sell. The gig seems like a great opportunity. The idea of ghostwriting is pretty cool. But the commitment…
I take pride in my job. Teaching is a calling that brings meaning to my life beyond being a mom and wife. I worked in the corporate world for a while, and the time and energy it stole from me, from my ability to give everything of myself to my family, made me angry. What good was I to this life if nearly all of my waking hours went to writing textbooks that nobody would ever use? What good was I to my kids if they were left to be raised by a daycare? I swore when I moved away from that place that if I had to work then I would make that time stolen from me be for something noble. So when teaching fell into my lap, I gave in to my fate. At least I would be on my children’s schedules, I thought. And I was. And life was mostly okay.
I exist for other people. That’s my calling. My job. My life. But I want to do other things. I want to write. All of that effort I would put in, though, would feel as though I am throwing away precious time. I’d be a ghostwriter of cheap novels. It sounds fun, but the time required…where would I steal it from? What sacrifice would I have to make to do something I want to do? I can answer that, but I don’t want to hear myself say that I’d be robbing my servitude.
I read a few things to my dad tonight that I have written over the years. I warned him they were bad, but I wanted to share them in the hopes that I would in some small way get an encouraging nudge. A sign, even. I now know that I should stick to cheap novels for cash if anything. That is me feeling sorry for myself.
I have bigger fish to fry. I will save my sadness for when I have time to lament any failed attempts at real writing.
Another Writer, Another Blog 
Truly, the things we don’t want to do, but do because it’s God’s will, are the most rewarding ones.
My daughter just retired after serving 32 1/2 years, the last ones as a reading teacher, and I know from her the many challenges teachers face and how blessed we are to have faithful, Godly teachers.
Thank you for serving God and the children.
❤️Michele
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I remember one of the lowest days in my life when I cried out to God: “WHAT do you want me to do?!?” and He boomed back: “WRITE!”
and so I write now because it’s of Him that I do.
We are on this earth to do His will and to please Him eh?….
He works to will and to do in us, and what we love to do is usually a sign that it’s His will to do it.
So “Write!” my sister and have joy.
❤️Michele
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About fifteen years ago, in a moment of great despair, I opened my bible hoping that I would get a miraculous response from God about what I should do with my life since teaching was, at the time, the absolute worst thing for my emotional wellbeing that one can imagine and my sole source of income. I closed my eyes, flipped through the pages, punched the page with my finger, and when I opened my eyes I saw that my finger had landed on the word “teach.” Talk about a miracle, albeit an unwelcomed one. I stuck with teaching, and the rewards have outweighed the hardship. But I really want to write. So I’m just going to keep fiddling with musings until something comes along. I used to be more interesting, but for a while I’ve been somewhat depressing. Consistently so.
Anyway, thanks for reading. I really appreciate it.
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Hmm, not sure I like this, although I did click the like thingy. I don’t want to see you give up on something that’s important to you, whether that’s ghostwriting or “real” writing. You can serve others and yourself as well. In fact I’d suggest you have to serve yourself in order to serve others well. Self-care you know. It’s not selfish. Unless it is. Which in your case it isn’t. Probably wouldn’t ever be. Please consider this an encouraging nudge.
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Thanks, Walt. I imagine eventually I’ll do something. My want and my have-to don’t coexist very well. I’m awake at 3:44am tonight (this morning?) obsessing over all the stuff I have to do before the 14th. I start back at work on Monday. Summer is over, which means my free time is, too. I was thinking that this sadness over how time speeds up the closer I get to the end of my summer break will be something like how I’ll feel at 90. That thought is unrelated to my dilemma, but it’s on my mind.
I don’t really understand this need to write that plagues me. Time is short, and what good would writing serve? The distraction of work will be good for me. I won’t think about it so much.
I think 70 is a good age to start the real writing. I can wait. Starting about 10 years from now, I’ll spiral toward 70 at break-neck speed. So it’s all good.
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“Time is short, and what good would writing serve?” Hmm, well guess that depends on your reason for writing. If it’s ego-driven, not much. If it’s financially driven, that’s probably a better reason. If it serves as a release valve, even better, and if you’re channeling something that just needs to be born, if you’re chipping away at the stone to reveal the statue inside, well that’s maybe the best reason.
But that business about 70, and 10 years from now and whatnot, I’m not going to validate that. I’m not sure if you’re serious, but if you are it sounds like it might be a bunch of hooey. Stop that.
You know I’m not one of those WordPress cheerleaders, right? I’m not the blogger who’s out there going rah rah for other bloggers. I’m not encouraging everyone to do this. I’m very selective about who I encourage, Ms. Joyce.
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Hey, Walt. I’ve been detached from the world outside of work lately, but I recognize the need to make time for non-work-related activities, like, you know, writing. Which means I have to create and stick to a strict routine. That’s the plan starting today. The big step here is not making the decision but making the statement that I am starting today and not tomorrow. Tomorrow is always the day to start things.
Anyway, I am really thankful for you, and I need you to know that. Thank you for the encouragement. I truly need it.
I finally contacted a customer, by the way. Two, actually. People on the community’s discussion board are complaining that work is sparce lately, so who knows whether I will get a reply. In the meantime, in keeping with my new routine, I will write for an hour each evening. Maybe I will post. Maybe not. But at least I will be writing.
I hope you are well.
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During what I think of as my “peak blogging years,” I was committed to posting once a week. That meant I was often thinking about what my next post would be, even while I was working on the current one. And that wasn’t at all a chore or a burden in any way, it was just what I wanted to be doing back then. I always had things on my mind anyway, so it was fun to find a way to write about them. Sometime I’d confront things head-on, sometimes in a very subtle or disguised way, but it was always a way of expressing or sharing or dealing with whatever was needing to be gotten out. It was very satisfying, for the longest time. And I’m just sharing that in case it helps you in some way, as you start this new thing, which I hope you stick to.
I’m thankful for you, too. We don’t interact a lot, but it’s meaningful when do, I think, and I like that. I consider you a friend.
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You’re a good friend.
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Just re-read this last comment of mine and it seems to have a tone I didn’t intend. It reads a little snippy and snarly to me, so my apologies if that’s the way it comes across to you too. I meant well!!
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I detected no snarlishness. I like your words.
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Good. And thank you.
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